Merciless King: A Hero Club Novel

by Ellie Jean

  “That’s kind of a long story. Let’s just say we’re now… friends.” Her voice is firm and tense again. Her relaxed state didn’t last long. I would have steered clear of the topic if I had an inkling of drama between the two.

  Leaning back, I look at her, taking in her differences from Saturday night: her hair wound so tight it looks painful, her professional clothes, makeup that would rival any red carpet nominee and a stiff posture.

  “Do you work for him?” I’m unsure why I really care how she knows Dex, but what else do I say to stop myself from blurting out ‘I want to take you back to my apartment and fuck you in to next week?’

  “No. Only friends.” Twisting her head to see if anyone is going to rescue her from my inquisition, she turns back. “I see you work for him.”

  “Been there a number of years. Just one of the maintenance men he has. My main passion is getting to fight for a world title in a matter of months. It’s my goal for the foreseeable future.”

  Inclining her head, she tries to move her hand from mine, but I won’t let her. “I don’t get the whole sport of it. Hitting and hurting an opponent until one is hardly breathing. What’s the appeal?”

  “The skill, the training required, the dedication and physical aspects compel me. Though, channeling my inner turmoil got me into the sport. A sport which I now couldn’t live without.”

  “You know you can get physical activity other ways.” Tilting her head, her smile returns.

  “I excel at them too.”

  “Cocky much?”

  “You know I speak the truth.”

  Catching her breath, she remembers all too well.

  A different waitress places the sauces in front of us and leaves.

  “So why do you need Dex’s help?” I won’t change her mind on the dislike of boxing. Meeting women who enjoy the sport is rare and it would be stupid of me to not see their viewpoint but it’s right for me and that won’t change.

  Taking a breath, she takes a sip of water next. “My father has a few business friends I hoped he could tell me more about since they may interfere with our work commitments. But really nothing, I’m being overly cautious ‘cause it’s my dad.”

  “Who’s your father? And what’s your business?” Caroline comes from money, you only have to look at her to work it out, even the other night I knew this with her poise and demands. She’s used to getting her own way.

  “My father is William and he owns a few stores.”

  I can tell she’s giving me the barest of minimum details and why wouldn’t she, we really don’t know each other. Having the most fantastic fuck of my life doesn’t equate to being trustworthy.

  “I understand you don’t want to tell me too much. I get it. But if you need help, I meant what I said before. I will help you.” Moving my hand from the table, I clasp it around my cell. “Give me your number so I can call you. You’ll have mine so you can call me anytime if you need me.”

  “How do I know you won’t randomly stalk me, phone me all hours of the night and send me porno clips?” A smirk tugs at her lips.

  “You don’t. And I totally will. But you’ll love it.”

  With an exasperated sigh and a shake of her head, she takes my phone and enters her number in it, under the contact Blossom. Having tasted firsthand how good we are, she won’t fight her urges.

  The smell of bacon wafts across our table before Martha comments. “Here you go. I’ve got a bet going on in the back that you, my dear, will finish it. Don’t disappoint us.”

  “I’m finishing this, if I have to sit here all day.” A casual atmosphere calms between us.

  “Also we have some hot jelly doughnut balls if you want dessert.”

  “I’ve got dessert covered. A trusted ball recipe too.” Interjecting before Caroline can, I wink at Martha.

  She leaves laughing, Caro raises her eyebrows and bursts out laughing. I go back to the delicious smelling food as though I haven’t offered my balls up on a silver platter.

  Caroline picks up a hot fried cheese stick after composing herself and all problems cease to exist. The look of pure ecstasy washes across her face and I want it to be me putting the look on her face, not some food item.

  Fuck.

  “Come on, let’s eat up and get out of here.”

  Caroline

  For one of the first times in my life, I feel completely relaxed. My limbs, jaw, neck all loosened the instant Chuck’s warm lips caressed mine. Each breath I drew in, a freshness revived my soul. Expelling the staleness with each exhale, cleansing me from within. A stillness envelops me. The hustle and bustle of my normal world ceases to exist while I eat my burger, looking at this potent man. To be honest, with each mouthful I take, I wish it was his skin I was biting. I want it to be his neck I am licking instead of barbecue sauce.

  A vibration from his phone interrupts my thoughts.

  “Are you going to get that?”

  Gulping down a mouthful of my water, Chuck glances at the screen and ignores it.

  “I’d rather keep admiring you, Blossom.”

  A sensual swipe of his hand across my fingers spreads warmth rapidly up my arm and his scorching gaze makes me moan inwardly. At least I hope he doesn’t hear how much my heart is fluttering and how my breath is speeding up with each minute.

  “You have a bit of sauce on your mouth.”

  A goofy and so very unprofessional-like grin expands across my face when his fingers touch my lips. His captivating smirk hits me full force and I stare wholeheartedly.

  “Thank you for looking after me.” It struck me then Chuck was the first man who actually worried about me. Who asked me if I was okay and if they could help. And I’d known him for less than a week, actually for a whole five hours, yet I feel closer to him than any other man.

  “You know I will help you any way I can. You only have to let me know.”

  Nodding my head, I take in his serious face. Chuck’s words comfort me, releasing my tight stomach. I felt sick seeing Chuck and after the laughing fit I had watching that darn goat, it was tense again. But his words and sincerity make me stop and really look at the man in front of me. He isn’t just a sexy as hell man, but his kindness and attention is unique.

  His phone vibrates again and without looking at it, he grabs my hand. “Let’s go.”

  We haven’t finished our meals, but I won’t argue.

  Two words and I follow him without question.

  Stepping outside, a wild wind has whipped up. I’m thankful my hair is tightly pulled back and my skirt is tight fitting. Chuck leads me through first and catches the door behind us without letting go of my grasp once again. I shouldn’t read anything into this, but with his rugged demeanor and brutally beautiful masculinity, I can’t imagine him holding a woman’s hand or showing any type of lasting affection.

  I’ll take it.

  “My place or y—”

  Two older men in suits barge in my space and cut Chuck off. “Time to go.”

  “Get the fuck out of my way, Nizo. I’ll come when I’m ready.” Coldness is replaced on my hand with the release of his grip as he pushes the gray-haired guy out of my way.

  “It’s time.” Placing a furious look across to the other guy, I notice an uneasiness about the receiver.

  “We don’t want to make a scene, Chuck.” He’s calmer than the other jerk and Chuck’s look of violence dissipates marginally. “Come with us now.”

  The look the intruders give me would scare Frankenstein. They aren’t hiding their ferocity toward Chuck and if the words and looks weren’t enough, the gun in their waistbands sealed the deal.

  “You’re not giving me a choice in this, are you?”

  Observing Chuck, there’s a familiarity with these men. They mean something to him. My hand dangles to my side, brushing against his leg. Turning his head to look at me, a tenderness graces his eyes, but his rapidly beating chest suggests he’s anything but calm. “I have to go. You have my number. Call me anytime.”
<
br />   By the time he swivels back, the look’s disappeared.

  Hot daggers pinpoint them instead.

  Without a second glance, he’s leading the way to a dark car. Another telltale sign he knows who these men are.

  And with that, I’m left standing outside a burger shop, alone, confused and a freaking wanton mess. I should be angry he’s left me and not put up any kind of fight. But I have to admit to myself, they didn’t give him any choice about it. I’ve seen enough stand over tactics, probably been known to use them myself at times when needed, to understand his predicament.

  But how can my body react with such intensity from knowing a man for so little time? And how can I be utterly disappointed I’m now not going back for more of what we started the other night?

  I gaze at the back of the man who has spurred unknown rumblings within me and try to keep my emotions in check. I shouldn’t be thinking this way about a man I have only met, yet I am. I’m powerless against his smirk, the safeness enveloping me when he’s close and the tingles penetrating my skin from making one last eye contact with his light honey-colored eyes before he gets in the SUV and the darkened windows separate us.

  The car slowly makes its way out of the small side street, taking with it my vulnerabilities.

  I need to see Dex more than ever.

  Chuck

  We slice through the shadowed streets of Manhattan and I stare out the window watching the multi-level buildings, cars, and bikes go by. I would have said more if Caro wasn’t with me, but I couldn’t risk her safety. What the fuck is wrong with these guys? My friends, trainers, and confidants for years and now they carry guns around to coerce me into a car?

  Have I taken a blow to the head?

  Am I in intensive care?

  Did Caroline slip me some hallucinogens?

  A blackness forges around my vision and my muscles flex with each crack of my knuckles. A vivid image flashes through my head of me beating to a pulp my manager and trainer and I don’t try to rid myself of it. I relish the image of blood spurting from their faces and me shoving my fist in to the face of Tomme Basilio.

  Slowing down, my chest continues to beat rapidly but my fists are relaxing. My teeth grind instead as I get out of the car at the lavish building I was acquainted with a day ago.

  “Your father will meet you in his office.” Nizo steers me through wood double doors, along a wide hall which extends for fucking miles into the center of the mansion. I give it to the man, he has himself safe from any outside attacks being so far inside the concrete walls.

  Flanked by my ex-team, I say ex at this stage because how the hell do I trust them now? Sal points to the polished metal door in front of me. It’s nothing special but out of place in this timber clad interior. “He’s waiting.”

  “Great. This family reunion should be a blast.” Without hesitation, I push open the door and am confronted with a darkened room, lit only by a computer screen sitting on a contemporary looking black desk and two side lamps. I’m quick to assess Tomme is sitting on a black couch to my right, dressed in a gray-colored suit with a black shirt, polished black shoes and has an unlit cigar in his hand. Christ, it’s so cliché. I’d laugh out loud with the Godfather vibe and Goodfella theme he has going on here if I wasn’t so livid.

  “Is this where you announce you’re going to kill me if I don’t do what you say?” Perching myself on the seat across from my father, I scrutinize his face. He has color and he’s not hooked up to tubes today.

  “Something like that, but I’m hopeful it won’t get that far.”

  Leaning back, trying to relax my tense abs, I drill my stare at him, raising my eyebrows. “So, you got me here.”

  “Do you want a drink?” Motioning to the decanter to his left, I decide I’m going to need a few to get me through this without killing someone. “I’ll take one too.”

  Two minutes pass and I’m back watching my father closely. Heat begins to radiate through the tips of my limbs again.

  “I spoke to Mother. She confirmed your identity.” The heat in my body increases to a burn. “Why now? Why wait all of those years? Years where I could have done with a male to guide my rage, or speak to about how to fight or have sex and assist a mother who was emotionally and physically holding on by a thread at times.” My voice increases steadily with loudness. “Where the fuck were you? Too busy with whores, money, and parties to give the girl who loves you unconditionally, the mother of your child, the fucking time of day or help? Fiorella’s heart beat for only you and you left her with a new baby to fend for herself. What kind of man does that? You’re not fit to be called a man or a father. You’re no father I want.” My chest expands and heaves with fury. My eyes feel like they are popping out of my head. Sweating profusely, a fire has burst its confines within.

  There’s a loud crash.

  Tomme’s crystal glass flies across the room, shattering into shards across his marble desk.

  Surveying him, frustration and pain fleet across his features. Perhaps regret?

  Banging erupts on the door. “Tomme, do you need us?”

  Pressing a button near his hand, a bolt lock sounds on the door, trapping us in. “Everything’s fine. I’ll call if I need you. You’re relieved for the day. Leave us.”

  Downing my alcohol, I refuse to speak. I have nothing left to say to this son of a bitch.

  Elbows on his knees, hands fisted together, his head leans against them. “It has to be this way.” There’s a touch of defeat in his voice. “My priority has always been your mother and you.”

  “What a load of garbage. Keep feeding yourself bullshit because it makes you feel better, but don’t lie to me. A priority comes first, not twenty-eight years later.”

  “Once you’re in this life for a while, Ciro, you will understand.” Standing up, he paces around the room.

  “My name is fucking Chuck. And I will never comprehend how a father can leave a son.”

  “It had to be, or both of you would have been killed. Is that what you wanted for your mother?” Growling, he continues, “For you? There’s so many fucking layers in this world. Laws, histories, family associations, words and rules. One slip means instant death. Your family can turn on you in less than a heartbeat. Loyalty means everything but can be shattered quicker than the glass laying on the floor ending a life within milliseconds. It’s not the life your mother deserved.”

  I yell at him. “It wasn’t your choice to make. How she’s still in love with you makes me cringe.” Stopping in his tracks, a look clouds his face but is gone before I can place it. His stance straightens and shoulders revert back, showing me a powerful man who runs much of this town. During my tirade after my conversation with Fiorella, Google became my best friend for hours. The Basilio family is well known and feared throughout the state. I’d heard the name in various areas of town but keeping my head down with boxing, I had no idea who they are. With their hands in many legal operations and without doubt illegal ones as well, men and soldiers are employed to keep the family profitable in more currencies than just money. This family, my family, has been running this area for decades. My father taking over from his father the day he died from a bullet wound to his chest.

  “The hardest decision I had to make in my life but also one of the easiest.” Gruff and deep, his speech breaks momentarily while he draws in a significant breath. “I couldn’t have her hurt physically. It was better she cried for a while than was dead, or worse, alive but trying to live in this sinister world. I tried to keep myself from the sphere of the family but it became clear and beyond any doubt, I was destined to be in the family business and one day, I would be expected to rule the empire.”

  There’s a struggle in his voice as though this dominant tyrant of a man is peeling back some of the layers, exposing himself, possibly for the first time ever. My eyes witnessing this authoritative man breaking apart in front of me. Large hands reach for another glass and he pours himself a scotch on the rocks.

  “But Fi
orella needed you.” I don’t understand it, but my head is telling me to tread gently.

  “And I needed her to a point of physical pain, but if Fiorella had been slain, hurt or taken by a rebel family, I would have killed myself after I tore down each son of a bitch that laid a finger on her. It’s impossible to forget her words when she told me she was pregnant. Hearing her gentle voice and hushed words competing against the rain on the iron roof, ‘you’re going to be a daddy’ shocked me for a millisecond but a warmth fired through each vein elating my senses and spiraling me into euphoria. The joy captured in those few words has never been repeated since, but it was short lived.”

  Pausing, he composes himself, leaning against the wall. There is no sign of any illness visible from the other day. If I had to guess, it was a performance to get me to feel something for him beyond contempt and hatred.

  “You’re a resourceful man. At a young age you would have contacts, money, and resources to hide yourself away until you…”

  “There’s no fucking hiding in this world when you’re the son of a mob boss, next in line to take over the family business and run New York’s underworld. Your identity is recognized by crime figures from here to California and across the oceans. Your grandfather was callous, cold-blooded and vicious. He didn’t ask questions, choosing to kill instead without proof sometimes. If you got in his way, cost him money, or clientele you would end up on a dirty fucking pavement or at the bottom of the ocean. Family wasn’t excluded. My uncle on my mother’s side was instantly shot when my father realized he was pocketing a few extra dollars from his sources because he wanted to give his bride a lavish wedding. Pardons don’t exist. I couldn’t have you associated with him. He would find a way to use you both to rake in more money. He was a greedy monster and I fucking wouldn’t allow it to occur. Our enemies thrive on weaknesses and the knowledge of a living heir would have been the biggest vulnerability of all, likewise our evident love for each other. Walking away from your mother almost ended me but the knowledge of finding a way to make your lives at least comfortable and you both being alive, would keep me striving to keep you both a secret.”